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Passions in Poetry

untitled

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grandiloquent
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since 07-08-99
Posts 109
Midwest America


0 posted 07-25-99 07:29 PM       View Profile for grandiloquent   Email grandiloquent   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems   Click to Submit your Poem to Passions   Click to visit grandiloquent's Home Page   View IP for grandiloquent

This is a little jumbled (even in comparison to most of what I write); so be attentive, and if need be, read twice.


We had fireworks. Not just morning glories and
artillery shells, or even New York seascapes with the dazzle
burning in the water.
No, we had the Grand Fourth,
in Falmouth, Kentucky,
with lightening bug glitter dusted over the trees
and heat lightening threatening over every horizon.
Me, standing knee deep in the back pond;
breathless, crying, circling endlessly to take it all in –
panorama of the show of three towns and hundreds of redneck, patriotic neighbors
shouting sparks in the air for six straight hours.
And the cicadas from layers and layers of farms swarmed
in the harmony of shrieks, roars, and electrified crackle.
No pauses,
just brightness,
burning,
then the thunder of approaching storms.
I blinked, unable to breathe when there was
Too much beauty.
Like coming up over a garbage dump
to find the Himalayas guarding the stark contrast of grey sky,
the stinking heap of rust rags and oil. And dropping your jaw and hands in witness, shock, and awe.
I know it, I understand that insufferable perception. I was there to see you
when you spoke and turned my head, my heart, my soul like an easy key.
I learned to breathe acid, to accept the Himalayas.
So you see, when we built the impossible, when I turned my eyes to you in the night
and touched your face just to be sure, just to let my skin know, “Yes, he is there.”
Well, that was more than everything.
And now, with the empty curve of my hands
curling into fists in the night when I wake up hearing you, and turn to remember that you’ve left two years ago. . .
Then I sense the touch of things around me grinding to a halt. My breath thins and I close my eyes picturing
what does not seem real: The crest of those impossible mountains,
the taste of the snow in the air; your impish grin teaching me all hope, all despair.
And I walk my simple footsteps, checking all the eyes
around me for the light I’ve seen in mine -- just the trace of that unattainable discovery.
I look over shoulders, street signs, car lanes,
Looking for a face or just the feel…



[This message has been edited by grandiloquent (edited 07-25-99).]
© Copyright 1999 Megan - All Rights Reserved
Balladeer
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 06-05-99
Posts 26302
Ft. Lauderdale, Fl USA


1 posted 07-25-99 07:49 PM       View Profile for Balladeer   Email Balladeer   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems   Click to visit Balladeer's Home Page   View IP for Balladeer

Twice? I will read it more than twice, and be more impressed with each reading. Still in awe.
Poet deVine
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Member Empyrean
since 05-26-99
Posts 25869
Hurricane Alley


2 posted 07-25-99 08:35 PM       View Profile for Poet deVine   Email Poet deVine   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems  View IP for Poet deVine

As you know, I'm a great admirer of your work on the Adult Forum and now this superb poem here. I look forward to reading more from you. There is imagery and imagination in each line!
Delores Hall
Member
since 07-16-99
Posts 358
USA


3 posted 07-26-99 01:07 AM       View Profile for Delores Hall   Email Delores Hall   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems  View IP for Delores Hall

Well written.I like your style.Happy writing.
poetFemmeFatale
Member Elite
since 07-25-99
Posts 2961
Arkansas


4 posted 07-26-99 01:15 AM       View Profile for poetFemmeFatale   Email poetFemmeFatale   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems  View IP for poetFemmeFatale

Absolutely lost me there for a minute - yes, I read it several times to let it soak in ! Wow...I'd love to read your poetry in the Adult Forum...Most of my poetry is Erotic, but I've yet to figure out who I must be to get in there!! Any tips? Most of my stuff is too juicy for this forum...Hope to hear from you!! Keep up the good work....I'll try to keep up with your deep intelect!!

------------------
- poet FemmeFatale

"The strongest man in the world is he who stands most alone..." Henrik Ibsen (1826-1906) Norwegian dramatist lyric poet

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